


Agent, are you even listening to me?

by JustAnotherMarvelGirl



Series: One Step Ahead [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Mentions of Murder, Unresolved Sexual Tension, agent!vision, but nothing graphic, criminal!wanda, some smutty thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherMarvelGirl/pseuds/JustAnotherMarvelGirl
Summary: Inspiration: "Agent Victor Shade, Code name Vision, is tasked to catch a group of fugitives: Black Widow, Captain America and Scarlet Witch. They get away from him every time and one of the fugitives catches his eye. It becomes a game of cat and mouse for them, until an evening in the opera, where Wanda Maximoff, aka Scarlet Witch seems to be cornered".
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: One Step Ahead [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715770
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	Agent, are you even listening to me?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is quite different from what I wrote so far, but I hope you guys will like it :)
> 
> This fic was inspired by this amazing gifset: https://andhewonherheart.tumblr.com/post/175882811754/scarlet-vision-au-agent-victor-shade-code-name

Two years. 

It had been two years since the “Avengers” case was assigned to him. 

Two years of lack of sleep and constant inner turmoil. 

The lack of sleep had been with him since high school. It stayed with him through his days at the Academy and afterwards, in the field. 

It wasn’t insomnia, he _could_ sleep if he wanted to, or at least that was what he managed to convince himself. The simple truth was that nights were much better spent working on his cases, planning, searching... Looking for them. For _her_. 

Yes, lack of sleep was an old friend. The inner turmoil, however, was not. 

The inner turmoil was due to _her_. 

Vision felt his mind drift off as Ross drawled on and on about how disappointed he was with him. 

Victor Shade. 

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agent with a flawless record. 

Unable to put an end to a small band of vigilantes who decided to take justice into their own hands instead of relying on the institutions to do their job. 

A part of him could understand, he would lie if he said he couldn’t. He had witnessed firsthand the criminals with airtight cases, supported by evidence that _he_ had spent weeks collecting, walking out of the courtroom as free men or with insignificant jail time because they had “friends in high places”. 

No, the system wasn’t perfect, but if everyone took justice into their own hands, what kind of a place would the world turn into? 

They needed to be stopped. 

_She_ needed to be stopped. 

“Agent, are you even listening to me?” 

The change in his superior's voice drew Vision’s attention back to the matter at hand. His failure to bring the “Avengers” in. He had never gotten that close to them before. No one had. All his previous attempts had been based on whispers of sightings, blurry images, trails gone cold long before his men managed to get to their reported location. 

But not this time. 

This time they had been there, within his grasp. His men had established direct visual contact with two members, Romanoff – the Black Widow – and _her_... The Captain was nowhere in sight. 

They had been playing this game of cat and mouse for two years, and Vision could recite every line from each of their files in his sleep, but the files didn’t prepare him for _her_. For the way her eyes would affect him even through the cold screen of his computer. For the way they would distract him long enough to make the wrong decision to wait for Rogers to show up instead of seizing the two of them. Long enough for them to escape once again. 

“What happened in Vienna won’t happen again. I know what her – _their_ next move is”. 

And he did. This case had been consuming him long enough to notice the patterns. The “Avengers” were good, choosing targets at what might seem random to anyone else, but not him. Not after all this time. The fact that they had showed up at the exact location that he had predicted was proof of that. 

It was a fact that Ross seemed content to ignore. Along with the fact that their suspected target was alive and in police custody thanks to Vision’s men. A stark contrast to the condition of their usual targets. 

“It better not. Pull yourself together, Vision. I’d rather not cause a scene while bringing them in, they’ve gotten themselves quite a following, but I _will_ use force if necessary”. 

_Quite a following_ was quite an understatement in Vision’s opinion. They had an impressive amount of public support; fan pages, social media groups, YouTube videos of people expressing their hope that they’ll never get caught, anonymous sources reporting fake sightings to mislead the authorities… 

Once again, he understood. How could he not? Their targets were the most hated layers of society: the rapists, the pedophiles and all kinds of sexual predators. Not the lower class, though. They seemed to believe that the system would take care of those. No, they went after the rich, after those who hid behind their wealth and influence. Vision wished he could silence the voice saying that the reason the higher-ups were pushing him so hard even though there wasn’t enough evidence to lock them up yet was because someone up there was afraid for their life. 

Vision suppressed the need to sigh and kept his face impassive. That damned internal conflict. 

“Force will not be necessary. I will be there to intercept them this time”. 

Ross looked at him with an unreadable expression. 

“See that you do”, he added, voice cold, before dismissing him from his office. 

On his way out, Vision wondered if the case would be taken away from him if he failed to deliver them this time. He couldn’t decide if the possibility brought him relief or despair. 

*** 

Vision adjusted his tie in the mirror and stared at the man regarding him from the glass. For the first time in a long while he didn’t look tired. There was even a hint of excitement in his features, a special twinkle in his eyes that he couldn’t for the life of him remember ever seeing there before. 

Would this be the day that he finally caught the infamous Miss Maximoff? 

He let his eyes take in the rest of his attire. A sleek, expensive black suit. Courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D., of course. Crisp white shirt, perfectly pressed, and a black tie to match. The man that stared back at him looked good. He might even dare to say handsome. 

Vision abruptly turned away from the mirror and exited his bathroom. 

It didn’t matter how he looked. 

Well, it did. He was almost certain that one of the “Avengers”, probably the Widow, would try to seduce their next victim in the Royal Opera House, and he needed to dress to the occasion in order to blend in. 

What didn’t matter was how he looked to _her_. 

_She_ was a criminal, and _he_ was there to catch her. 

Nothing less. 

And nothing more. 

*** 

Vision leaned his palms on the safety railing as he scanned the people mingling below him. This was always his favorite part of field missions. Standing on a vantage point, out of sight and yet all-seeing. It helped him become detached, purely pragmatic, and concentrate on his mission and his mission only. 

His team was good, he trusted each and every one of them, but no one had quite the eye for potential threats like he did. He knew he couldn’t afford a fight in such a populated place. Civilian lives depended on him and his abilities. He needed to identify his targets and bring them in while ensuring everyone’s safety. 

It was going to be a difficult task, but he knew he was up to it. All he needed to do was recognize them and alert his team without them realizing it. There was fifteen of them against three targets. They stood no chance. 

Vision already knew that recognizing them would prove to be challenging. They had been on the run for the past five years. They were used to constantly changing their appearance. Hair color, hair styles, facial hair, colored contact lenses, Vision knew they changed it all. But he was confident. His observation skills were exceptional. 

He would find them before the opera started. Before the curtains rose and fell. Before the lights came off and back on again, revealing the dead body of another pervert in the VIP booth, with no trace of the person who did it. But everyone would know who was behind it. Everyone always did. 

That was their MO. 

No sound. 

No evidence left behind. 

And no mercy. 

*** 

The few times the witnesses had recognized them on the scene and decided to report them were always consistent. 

He knew that they would not stand together, but if one was there, the others would be somewhere close. 

So Vision focused on the people who stood alone, away from the others, observing. Most people were in pairs or groups, which made his job easier, so he let his eyes go over one after another, comparing what he saw with what he knew. 

That was when he noticed _her_. She was blonde this time, hair much shorter than in Vienna. The knee length black dress she wore was fancy enough to fit in with the other guests, but conservative enough to let him know that he was correct in his assumption. 

The Black Widow would be the one doing the seduction. 

He scanned the rest of the crowd with even more confidence now that he had it confirmed that the “Avengers” were here, but he made sure _she_ never went out of his sight. 

Romanov was next, on the opposite side of the lobby, in a daring midnight blue floor-length dress with a slit that went all the way up to the middle of her thigh. She would be hard to lose now that he was aware of her attire, so Vision continued his search for the final member of their little trio. 

Rogers gave him the most trouble. He was just another man in a suit in a crowd of hundreds of them. He looked very different than he did in his file. Of course he did. All they had were pictures of him cleanshaven and with a military cut, pictures of the perfect soldier that he had been before going rogue. The man that Vision was looking at right now was rugged, with a long beard and hair that fell down to his shoulders, but there was no doubt in his mind. This was their Captain. 

Satisfied with achieving his goal, Vision let his eyes fall back on _her_. He wondered if she knew what he looked like. If they had ever stayed behind, lingered at the crime scene, to study the man that was hunting them down. It didn’t matter. They were his now. 

“Game over, Miss Maximoff”, he murmured to himself, reaching for his communicator to alert his team of their targets’ positions. Suddenly her eyes snapped upwards and the look in them made his breath catch. 

She whispered something towards her shoulder in a rush and in an instant Romanov and Rogers headed towards the exits. 

“Shit”, he cursed, darting down the stairs. He knew he should ask for back up but there was no time. They couldn’t get to the Captain and the Widow without causing a scene but _she_ had hundreds of people between her and the main entrance. Vision had to make sure to cut off her only logical option, the emergency exit, and he couldn’t slow down enough to notify his team. 

He reached the abandoned hallway just in time to see her round the corner and he broke into a run. He wouldn’t lose her this time. 

She was halfway between him and the door when he rounded the corner and ordered her to stop with all the authority he could muster, voice a bit shaky from running. 

She disobeyed, of course she did, but not before throwing him a look over her shoulder that did funny things to his insides. She broke into a run of her own, but her heels were impractical and he was much taller. He reached her just as she neared the exit, using his arms to cage her between his body and the door. 

Vision wished he could bend over and rest his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, but he couldn’t allow himself even a second of inattention with her. He still lowered his head a bit, leaning forwards but not closing his eyes. He wouldn’t dare. 

He heard her sigh before she tried to turn around and face him, but he was prepared. One of his hands shot down to her shoulder, holding her in place, while the other pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket and bound her wrists together behind her back. 

It was only then that he let her turn. 

He was still standing so close to her, her breasts rubbing against his chest as she turned. He stared, mesmerized, as her chest moved up and down with her heaving breaths, a savage sound fighting to come out of his throat. 

He wouldn’t allow it. 

“Well, you caught me”, she murmured, voice rough. From her file he knew she had a Sokovian accent, but no one had ever warned him how arousing it sounded. 

“What now?” 

Vision allowed himself the luxury of two more deep breaths before he started reciting her rights. It didn’t help that with each breath he inhaled a lungful of her perfume. 

She interrupted him as soon as he started, stance as defiant as she could achieve with hands bound behind her back, but there was a deep sort of sadness in her eyes. 

“We both know that’s not true. I have no rights. You have no evidence of me doing anything wrong because there isn’t any. But that won’t stop them from locking me up in some high security prison. No trial. No charges”, she spat out, the sadness steadily being replaced with rage. 

“That is not true”, Vision claimed, not sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. His previous doubts came unbidden to the surface. They didn’t have enough evidence to hold them in custody for more than a day, and they definitely didn’t have enough to convict them. They had nothing more than circumstantial evidence, and he was more than aware that _I just know they’re guilty_ wasn’t enough to build a case on. 

And yet Ross and Pierce kept pushing and pushing for capture. Not a well-built case. Capture. Or kill. 

She smiled a bitter smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Whatever lets you sleep at night”, she said derisively and Vision felt his nostrils flare and his breath quicken. How dare she? She, who had taken so many lives? 

Her smile widened at his reaction, something mischievous lighting up her eyes. It made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. 

“You still haven’t called for backup, agent”, she whispered, voice dropping down at least half an octave. He could see the shift in her stance, the way she straightened her back in an effort to draw attention to her cleavage. He knew perfectly well what she was doing but found himself powerless to stop it. 

“You have me here, arms bound, all alone in an empty corridor”, she continued, her voice the spell of a mermaid drawing him under, never to return to the surface again. 

“Tell me, agent, did you ever think about me. All those nights you must have spent studying me, trying to predict my every move, did you ever imagine me like this, completely at your mercy?” 

Her words were poison, Vision was well aware of that, but they were the sweetest kind of poison. The kind that made him yearn for more even as it killed him. 

Images came to his mind unbidden. Visions of closing the small distance between them, using his body to pin her against the door as his hands fumbled with the zipper on her dress. A maddening desire to claim her mouth with his own, to hear that sinful voice scream his name as she fell apart all around him. 

Years of training screamed at him to snap out of it. This was _her_ game. A game he could never hope to win. He took a deep breath and swallowed slowly, doing his best to ignore her assault on all of his senses. 

“No”, he lied, voice sounding much more broken than it had the right to be. 

“Tsk, tsk”, she chided, eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in his pants. Her smile was pure seduction as she stood even taller on her toes despite being in heels and brought her face a breath away from his. “Agents are not supposed to lie”. 

Vision felt his breath catch in his throat at her closeness, his vision swimming as she moved her lips impossibly closer to his. 

He needed to get away. 

He needed to kiss her. 

He needed to report that he had arrested her. 

He needed to take her right there and then. 

He needed… Oh, yes, he needed. 

But this wasn’t about his needs. This was about his job. He had to bring her in. 

He took another step away, needing to get some distance between them to clear his thoughts when she whispered “now” and laid all her weight on the push bar on the door, opening it just the tiniest bit, before her whole body suddenly surged forwards. The sheer force of the contact made Vision stumble backwards and then everything happened in an instant. 

The emergency exit door was pulled open wider from the outside. 

Wanda slipped out of her heels and ran barefoot through the door, hands still bound behind her back and Vision managed to get to the door just in time to see her jump into the car that was parked right outside, the Captain following right behind her and helping her in. The windows were tinted but Vision had no doubt that Romanov was behind the wheel. 

“Sweet dreams, agent”, she teased, a grin on her face as Rogers closed the door behind them, hiding her from his view. 

Vision sunk to his knees in defeat as he stared at the car getting smaller in the distance. 

Once again, she slipped out of his grasp. 

Once again, he was watching her leave. 

Once again, she won. 

After a while he turned around, thankful that one of her heels was blocking the fire door. At least he wouldn’t have to go around to the main entrance and humiliate himself in front of his team. 

Vision slowly went back inside. He thought briefly about taking the heels and filing them as evidence, but there was no point. No crime would be committed this night. 

He threw them both outside, past caring. People would simply assume someone got too drunk to walk in them properly. 

Once inside the safety of the abandoned hallway, Vision leaned against the wall, eyes closed as he went over all that had happened. 

Was he ashamed? Affirmative. 

Was he attracted to her? Undeniable. 

Would he be able to react differently next time? Uncertain. 

Vision groaned and laid a hand over his forehead. 

He was truly and utterly fucked. 

For the first time since he had taken on this case, Vision was completely at a loss. 

Did he want them to face justice for their crimes? 

Yes. 

Of course. 

Except he wanted them to face real justice. The kind that their victims didn’t get. He wanted them to be able to defend themselves, to face a fair trial and get convicted _only if_ he had enough evidence to make a solid case against them. 

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that a fair trial wasn’t what his superiors had in mind for them. 

By the time his phone started ringing he had made his decision. 

“So, Vision? The opera started ten minutes ago, did you find them?”, Pierce’s voice boomed in his ear. 

Vision took a deep breath and steeled himself, willing his voice to show no glimpse of the turmoil his emotions were in. 

“I was wrong. They never came”. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Agent, What Have You Done?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578819) by [Artemis_Egeria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Egeria/pseuds/Artemis_Egeria)




End file.
